


Milo Murphy the Lawless Goose

by magical_octopus333



Category: Milo Murphy's Law, Untitled Goose Game (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Murphy is a Little Shit, Untitled Goose Game AU, also, murphy is a goose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-01-24 17:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21342178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magical_octopus333/pseuds/magical_octopus333
Summary: Milo was just a bored goose looking for more bells, when he came upon an artist in his garden, painting his neighbor with eyes full of love and sadness. He decides to take things into his own hands- err, wings and beak.Tldr- a goose plays matchmaker and helpful friend! And someone gets Big Mad
Relationships: Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota, Vinnie Dakota & Milo Murphy
Comments: 23
Kudos: 68





	1. Get dressed up with ribbon

‘This neighborhood is huge’, the young goose thought as he looked around. ‘I wonder if there are any bells here!’

It was during these musings that he heard a sigh from behind a fence. Curiosity was a curse he had, the goose would surely believe if he knew what those concepts were. Regardless, the goose wanted to investigate the odd sound. 

He looked around, recalling having seen some loose planks a bit further back along this path surrounded by fence. He found the triad of loose wood and pushed through, coming into a garden, where a man sat with while reading his newspaper, puffs of smoke rising every so often from behind it. The bird shook his head, looking for the source of what was a sigh, now turned humming. 

The goose found a section of fence where a yellow ribbon waved in the wind, at least where it wasn't snugly involved in the bow. Curiously, the goose pulled upon the waving fabric, jumping back when a section of the fence fell back. He snuck in through the gap when a familiar gasp popped up. 

“Oh!” the artist yelped, dropping his paintbrush into the grass below his wooden structure. The goose looked up at the tan face staring curiously at him through a thick pair of sunglasses. 

“I didn’t see you there, little bird… how’d you- Are you Cavendish’s Goose?” 

If the young goose could speak beyond words, he’d say no, he was a new neighbor looking to make friends and find bells. Alas, the goose could only honk and shake his head. 

“Just passing through I guess then…” The artist picked up his brush, startling the young goose.

“Don’t worry-” the artist spoke, putting said brush onto the weird wooden structure. “I just needed to set my brush on the easel so I don’t go bonkers looking for it later, ya know?”

Our young goose waddles around the wooden structure- the easel- to look at what the artist was staring at. It was a sign! The goose had seen them, although this sign had so many colors and was shiny. 

Signs had been popping up everywhere, with pictures of him on them. However, they got his feathers wrong- there was no red slash around him, nor a red circle with the slash at the center. He didn’t like the inaccurate signs, especially since it made the people who had the sign be mean to him and not want to play anymore.

This sign was different. It wasn’t him. He doesn’t wear glasses, and he certainly can’t read the paper held by the person on the sign. There were so many colors, but he knew the color of his feathers was the same as the man’s in the sign. 

“Do you like it?” the artist asked, bending slightly down to the goose. “Neighbor over there, that’s Cavendish… isn’t he handsome?”

‘I’m handsome’, thought the goose. ‘But that man has white feathers too so he must be somewhat handsome too.’ Nodding, the goose turned to stare at the artist, who giggled. The goose didn’t understand why he giggled, but was happy the man was happy. 

“I like you, Goose…” the artist spoke before looking puzzled. He got up and walked to- another goose! This one had a ribbon- wait, that’s not a real goose. Statue of a goose wearing a ribbon- that the artist is pulling off it.

“See, my name is Dakota.” the artist said as he bent down in front of the goose, the red ribbon held in his hand. He gestured to the goose, who looked at the ground in confusion. Suddenly, Dakota pulled the ribbon gently around his neck, tying it into a bow. “You need a proper name…”

As Dakota stood up and looked around, the goose dashed up to the water dish in front of a statue of some man’s torso and head to. He caught his reflection and admired the gleaming fabric tied prettily around his neck. 

“Hmm…” Dakota puzzled out loud, a book held in his hand. “You could have an artist’s name, like this poet- Elliot? Are you an Elliot?”

The goose, most certainly not Elliot, honked in a disgusted tone. Elliot- that was the name of the snooty boy from earlier! Who threw his plane at him! 

“No, that won’t do… Anabelle Lee?... Oh, I didn’t know geese can hiss…” Dakota flipped further into his book. “Not a lady’s name then. Manly goose…”

“Edgar?”

“Honk!”

“You’re right, you don’t have black hair like an Edgar would... Patro-closs- patrocloose- patrocleese? No, I can’t even say that so- Icarus?”

“Honk!”

“Is this all Greek to you or do you understand- snrk!” Dakota snorted then began to giggle. “Heh! It's ‘a pun- cause -cause… Ah, nevermind, I’ll go on.” 

“Alright,” Dakota spoke suddenly, closing his large book of poetry bits gently. “If I’m going to keep spouting names at you to see if any fit, I may as well get something to drink-” he got up, one hand reaching to the bird to stroke the feathers upon the goose’s head. “Ya’ want anything? There’s some water and birdseed, certainly… don’t think you’d want any Milos Tea, hmm?”

The goose waddled forward, waving his wings up and down at Dakota, honking happily as he did so. He wanted the hand back, to be pet once more. Dakota seemed to understand, since he bent down to stroke the feathers once more. 

"Milo... would you like to be called Milo?" The goose nuzzled into Dakota's hand- he had seen a cat do this through a window and the cat got more pets for it. Seemingly, it works for geese as well, since Dakota pet him more, a smile blooming on his friend's face. 

"Alright, Milo! Sit tight here, I'll get you some food! There's got to be some peas around here somewhere..."


	2. Doing the washing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... this would have been out sooner if I didn't combine two to do list items... and procrastinated so long...

Milo decided to wander around the garden, almost strutting joyously in his red ribbon. He found himself walking along the grey stones, looking at the canvas absently before turning to the rest of his surroundings. 

That's when he came across some hanging fabric. He saw the swatches hanging by wooden clips before the horrible smell caught his beak. Oh, it was horrible!

Milo hissed at the clothing before turning towards where Dakota was, somewhere searching inside his house. The fabrics- these were Dakota’s fabrics hanging here! But why did they smell so bad? 

A cough caught his attention, from somewhere over the fence- oh, Cavendish! The painting man Dakota likes! 

Oh dear! Humans don’t like bad smells- Milo found that out after he met a scared skunk in the park. If Dakota wanted Cavendish, he couldn’t have such stinky fabrics! 

“Ugh…”, Cavendish grumbled, standing up, his white hair visible now through the lattice fence. 

Milo could see him looking disgruntled as he pulled his shirt taught as if looking at something the goose couldn't see.

“Ash on my clothing, this bloody pipe…” With that, Cavendish went into his house, grousing about this and that. When he left, the air was silent except for the sound of water.

Water! Oh, if he washed the clothes, like how he washed jam from his feathers after that picnic, they wouldn’t smell so bad! And Dakota could have a chance with Cavendish!

The goose took a few steps back before flapping his wings and running towards the tall potted plant next to the fabric-hanging rope. He couldn’t fly yet, really only a gosling, but it was enough to make a rather big jump. 

He made it onto the dirt in the pot, careful as to not hurt the flowers sharing the soil. Looking up, he saw a little house with seeds inside- birdseed! Oh, it looked oh so tantalizing to the white bird. But he had to be strong in his goals! 

After stealing only one beak-full of the birdseed, he turned his attention to the line of fabrics- oh, clothing! Cavendish said what he wore was clothing!

Using his beak, Milo clipped the string and the line fell, the clothes still clipped on to it tightly. Perfect! He hopped down from his perch on top of the pot, landing carefully on grass with a few flaps. 

He moved over to the other side of the string, still held aloft by another rather tall flower plot. Hopping onto a smaller flower pot at it's base, he used the surrounding flower pots like makeshift stairs. 

He clipped it, allowing the line to fall upon the ground before picking it up once more, feet planted on the cool stone once more. He looked at the fence that had been held up by yellow ribbon before ducking through it, the line still held in his beak.

He waddled past the tall rose that stood in all its glory and thought how nice it'd be as a gift, to clip it down- oh, but first the clothes must be washed. Through his wanderings, he had seen many people use a nice smelling bad tasting square that the humans called 'soap' to wash things. The human named Murawski seemed to enjoy rubbing the 'soap' upon her- what did she call that table? Oh, the desk!

Milo dragged the clothing line into the moving water-  fountain- before he tried to sniff out for where that dastardly 'soap' may be at. 

Before he could leave the hedges to look further, maybe inside Cavendish's house, the man himself came back, carrying a tray with a nice- smelling smell wafting from the little container next to a smaller cup. 

"Nothing like a little tea to relax with…" Cavendish mumbled, his voice having an odd quality to it. 

If Milo knew what accents were, he'd be able to explain why the voice sounded odd. But, as of current, he does not. He still has much to learn.

Milo waddled to the gap between hedges and watched as the man set the tray down before having a seat himself. 

Wanting to catch that lovely aroma once more, he rose his beak into the air and leaned closer to Cavendish- before pulling back all together. 

It took all his goose willpower not to hack or hiss- that smell! Oh, he knew the smell of smoke was bad. But the clothing on the man's weird flippers! They smelled awful! 

He decided it was upon him to help these two humans! It only made sense! They already made their nests- or homes as humans call them- right next to each other! 

There was only one thing Milo could do- he had to steal the flipper clothing from Cavendish. 

His first attempt admittedly could have gone better. Milo had managed to nab it, but Cavendish caught him as he tried to waddle away. 

His face had turned so red and he yelled- that foot clothing must really embarrass the tall man! If only he knew Milo was trying to help! 

Milo had to be far more sneaky for this to work. He waited for Cavendish to be immersed in his paper before taking the clothing- slippers, as Cavendish called them- one by one to the water. 

Dakota was still inside his house- by smell, it seemed he was thawing out some vegetables! If Milo could smile, he would at the thought. Dakota truly was the kindest human he has so far met! He felt himself grow hungrier at the smell wafting through the yard.

He crept towards the house when he smelt it- soap!

He followed the scent trail to the wash basin filled with plants slowly starting to overtake it, where a pink bar of soap sat on the edge. He only had to stretch his neck out to reach it, but he hesitated. 

Milo would definitely prefer to have not needed to touch the soap with his beak. He didn't want it sticking to his beak or tasting it. He has had his fill of soap already- his honks came out as bubbles for a week after that unfortunate accident. 'But', he thought as he glanced towards the house where Dakota sang by the stove, 'this kind human deserves nice things'.

He grabbed the soap and brought it into the fountain. Watched as the bubbles started to appear. If a goose could smile, Milo would definitely be smiling. 

"Milo? Come get the grub!" 

Oh, yes, the goose was definitely smiling a beak smile as he waddled to Dakota quickly as Cavendish sighed behind his newspaper. 


	3. Decorating the Bust

“Huh”, Dakota speaks, the only sound besides Milo’s gentle eating. And by gentle eating I mean his chaotic gobbling down of the peas and corn floating in the bowl Dakota gave him. 

He looked up from his eating, looking at Dakota leaning against the water basin. He followed Dakota’s gaze through the fence, to the huffy Cavendish. Every so often he’d reshuffle the newspaper, or harrumph. 

“You alright, Cavendish?” Dakota called through the fence. 

Cavendish seemed to flinch at that, before turning back to retort. 

“I’m fine. Why don’t you carry on with  _ Milo _ inside your house, hm? Some of us would like peace and quiet, not all that… noise...” 

Dakota gave an odd look towards Cavendish, who kept his back to him. From what Milo could see, Cavendish turned red like he had from Milo borrowing his slippers to wash. Dakota simply sighed before turning to Milo and inviting him in. 

Most humans do not appreciate Milo coming inside their houses, so he quickly waddled after him. He finished his peas and corn in the ‘kitchen’, as Dakota called the room. The ground was cool under his flippers, and this ground didn’t take the water into it, so Dakota was forced to use a ‘towel’- a weird piece of clothing that took water better than other clothing. Or so Milo assumed. 

While Dakota cleaned, Milo returned to the yard. He was not used to this ‘inside’, and he didn’t want to be in Dakota’s way. Not to mention he had another plan to make. 

When Cavendish asked them to go inside, it seemed to make Dakota less than happy. He seemed sad, staring off as Milo took turns between eating and looking at him. Milo didn’t know why, but his human friend was unhappy. 

He had seen the sign, and the ribbon- Dakota likes pretty things, and seems to like making things look better. Which inspired him, when he looked to view the ribbon in the water’s reflection. The grey stone had a lifeless face that didn’t seem very Dakota. 

Milo had to deal with people not liking his goose ways, so he knew that keeping distracted could keep the sadness away. And what is a better way to distract than by the fun of decorating. 

He got to work.

Since he wanted it to be a little surprise, he went over to Cavendish’s area to gain supplies. It's not like the man was there to stop him, nor that he knew better. Cavendish had gone inside his home- mumbling about cold tea and losing his slippers. 

It was only a few things he probably didn’t need- a pair of glasses, a hat, and that smelly pipe of his. He laid them in the grass by the bust. 

While Milo had been collecting the supplies, he had to work around Dakota, who had taken to his painting again. He came up to the painter and rubbed himself against the artist’s legs. He had seen Melissa the cat do it to get attention. 

Dakota looked down at Milo with a sad smile and raised an eyebrow at the bird. Milo, taking that as a cue, ran up to the bust before honking and flapping his wings. Dakota followed after putting down his paintbrush and palette. 

“What is… huh?” Dakota replied, looking down at the three items before turning to the proud goose. “Where did those come from?” 

He shook his head, reaching down to grab the items as Milo watched him. He turned, as if to call out to Cavendish, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he placed them on the bust with a happier smile. 

“I’ll give them back to Cav’ next time I see him, lil goose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the smaller chapter. But something is better than nothing. I will finish this fic, I am getting there! Thank you everyone who has commented so far! It really helps. Please keep leaving comments and letting me know what you like!


	4. The chimes of trouble arose and crashed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey if items getting thrown or descriptions of an angry man get to you, all you need to know is in the end notes of this chapter. You can read up to the part where the bell rings. Then it gets a bit tense.

Milo’s plan to cheer Dakota up was working like a charm! He saw Dakota smile as he glanced over to the bust. The human had gone a turn around the garden, trimming the hedge a bit more. Milo watched him go about his work, idly thinking.

Dakota eventually got bored with his wanderings and returned to his canvas. Cavendish had yet to return outside, so Dakota had switched to another painting. 

He stared intently at the pink gladiolus that stood proudly by the fence between paint strokes. It stood by a covered thing. Milo couldn’t tell what it was, but for the moment it didn’t matter to him. 

Making Dakota feel a bit better was only the second step in helping his human friend get a mate. The clothes were still bubbling away, Milo thought as he looked away to the fountain slowly being encompassed by the soap bubbles. 

He now had to show Cavendish how good a human his Dakota is! It was at that moment that Cavendish returned to his backyard, carrying a fresh pot of tea and some quiet grumbling to go with it. Oh, and a crumpet or two. 

His plan would require a lot of stealth. He needed to show why Dakota was a good mate to have! Milo knew that anyone would like to have a mate like Dakota- he has food and many shiny things. It was one of these shiny objects- a purple vase- that he brought through the gate and to Cavendish’s feet. 

However, Cavendish didn’t look up. He seemed as steamed as his tea still, for reasons unknown to the gander. Milo waited and waited for what felt like forever. Yes, five whole minutes! But it was to no avail. He got impatient waiting, and returned to Dakota’s garden for more shiny things. 

“Hey, Milo?”, Dakota called out to his little goose. Said little goose waddled up to the human, looking at the canvas with him. “What do you think?”

Upon the sign- canvas, as Dakota called this type of sign- was those same flowers- the pink gladiolus- next to an even more glorious shape. 

Though it wasn’t as shaded or complex as the flowers next to it, the large bell beside it could still be seen in it's golden splendor. He looked between the flowers and the painting as Dakota softly chuckled. 

“Good job, Milo” Dakota replied, slipping his paintbrush into the curly mess of hair atop his head. “Yep, I painted that there gladiolus and am going to work on the bell next. Just need to pull that cover off of it.” 

Milo couldn’t help himself, racing up the stone steps to the bell. He grabbed a corner of the cover with his beak and pulled. It took a couple pulls to fully free the lovely bell from under the dull sheet. But once it was free, Milo could only gawk at it, his beak open and feathers fluffing.

“D’you like it, goose?” Dakota asked as he leaned against his bathtub-turned-plant pot. “Made it when working on the lil’ town model I made” 

He scratched the back of his neck a little flustered at the awestruck goose. 

“That was before I got the land plot finalized and knew what scale I had to work in.

“Fits into this hodgepodge backyard, though, huh?” Dakota said, looking over the garden. “Wait, I thought I put my laundry-”

The bell rang out, echoing out through the two gardens, causing Dakota to whip around to see Milo beside the bell looking overjoyed. And to hear as Cavendish spat his tea out on the other side of the fence. 

“Oh, that does it!” Cavendish yells, standing up and slamming down his tea cup. He gets up, moving down past the hedge. 

“Some of us are trying to have a quiet day in the yard-” he stopped, and over the fence, Milo could see Cavendish’s face contorted in an angry fashion as he stared at the ground behind the hedge. 

“Did you cut down my _ prize-winning rose?? _” He screamed, picking up the offending flower as he stomped to where the fence was low enough to let him see his neighbor. His face was turning more and more red. 

Milo glanced towards his human, who had a hand against his chest, looking absolutely frightened. The young gander’s feathers stood on end when a loud shriek came over the fence. 

“YOU PUT SOAP IN MY FOUNTAIN?!?!” He bellowed, throwing the items of the clothing line over the fence one by one. 

“And your FILTHY, DISGUSTING UNDERGARMENTS- my slippers too? When dID YOU STEAL MY SLIPPERS, DAKOTA?!?!” 

Milo found himself hiding behind Dakota, pulling on his human’s clothes in the hopes of pulling him inside. But he was frozen in his spot, staring at Cavendish, stomping through the yard. His soaking boxers landed at his feet, the socks separated in different parts of the yard. 

Cavendish looked at Dakota over the fence, catching sight of the decorated bust and huffing. He was panting, like a rabid animal ready to tear into its prey. Dakota stood, not visibly shaking but barely breathing. Milo fled into the house as Cavendish raged, staring at Dakota. 

“Don’t you have enough rubbish in your yard, Vincent Dakota?” He snarled at the unresponsive Dakota. “WHy did you STEAL my GLASSES and PIPE! And to decorate that hideous sculpture?” 

He huffed, stomping back to his table when he saw the vase- misshapen, purple monstrosity in his yard. He picked it up and held it between his hands, shaking with the rage he felt. He took and threw it over the fence with a grunt. It wasn’t until he heard the glass shattering on the other side of the fence that he realized what he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bell rings, making Cavendish have an outburst with throwing items and seeing what Milo has done yet blaming Dakota. He ends up throwing back the vase over the fence and its a cliff hanger. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, if I should take off/leave/add to the warning or how you like the fic. Things get better for our trio here and the final chapter should be up before Saturday I hope.


	5. a new player joins the game

Melissa was waltzing through the neighborhood when she heard it. She’s heard the sound a few times before, and it always meant some sort of trouble. Nothing big, of course, and nothing an alley cat like her couldn’t handle.

It was the sound of a very sad goose. 

She found a broken panel in the fencing of the yard which that sad sound had come from and easily slipped through. There he stood, staring at his reflection in the water-bowl in front of a stone statue. 

“What’s the word, bird?” Melissa called, slowly entering the garden. There wasn’t a human to be heard from or smelt, but it was wise to keep alert. Shaking any leaves from the bushes outside the fence, she then stalked up to the forlorn goose. 

“I got a name today, and even a human-” the goose spoke, looking towards the house. She flicked her ears, catching the sound of water hitting stone and off rhythm breath. 

“But now my human is sad… and it's all my fault!” he squawked the last bit, spooking Melissa slightly. She hopped onto the reclining lawn chair, catching her breath as she did. 

“How so, feather head?” she called, laying down upon the chair, tucking her legs in. She had a feeling this would be a bit of a story. Milo began the story, starting with his new name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been long. I kept hesitating on how to continue this, but I've finally made my move. As much as I want to finish this now, its 2 am and I need to be up for work around 10 am. However, I hope to finish this before August ends, so stay tuned.   
As always, let me know what you think! If you can't think of a comment, just leave a 'hello Melissa' or what melissa's name could be with a cat pun. I know there is 'Catvendish', but I can't think of one for her.   
Thank you for reading and for those who've already left comments I'm glad to have you on this long journey.


	6. the mission is never complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It hard knowing where to go when the world crumbles away. Eh, Dakota is used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO THOUSAND YEARS can give you such a kink in the neck!   
This is... probably the last chapter?

Dakota sat on the cold tile, feeling his breathing slow down to normal. He had ran into his restroom- partially to hide and partially for the scratch made by broken glass on his foot. 

‘Oh, yeah…’, he thought to himself, looking down to his sandal. ‘I need to take care of that.’ 

“He can’t hide in there for long!” Melissa called, striding into Dakota’s house as if it was her own. Milo flapped in the doorway, calling her name.

“Dakota hasn’t told us we could come in!” 

“That didn’t stop you from breaking in when The Tall Man got mad!”

Milo halted, looking towards the fence before following his feline friend inside. The inside of the home was a lot like the outside, a beautiful catastrophe. The cool tile, just inside the doorway, was clearly Dakota’s work- a step into mosaics. Lucky for Milo, it was only a step not bound into it, so he could easily hop over the mess of the floor. 

Following the sound of rushing water, the tabby cat found herself on the other side of a closed door. No crying, fortunately, but the closed door was still a challenge.

The two animals looked to each other, as the young cat got closer to the door. Melissa pawed at the door, several strokes before she let out a meow. Milo stared at her, before joining her with a few honks

Dakota was running cold water on his face when the commotion began. At first it was just a meow. Sure, cats roamed the neighborhood sometimes, and maybe Amanda the cat had come by for some scratches. But when he heard the panicked honks, he jumped into action. 

He slammed open the door, causing a blur of orange to dash away, Milo standing nearby, watching as the cat ran onto the couch. He went to the young goose- who seemed uninjured, nuzzling his hand while he was being inspected. 

“What was all the commotion about?” Dakota asked, slowly approaching the orange cat. Said cat must have catched their bearings. “Did he attack you?”

The cat flicked it's ears, as if to say that was ridiculous. And Milo’s own honk seemed horrified at the very notion. “Alright, but that doesn’t explain the noise…”

He lifted his knuckles out to the cat, who responded by licking the outstretched hand. Gently sitting on the couch beside the cat, he began to ponder over the cat. Milo took a seat on the tile, taking Dakota’s other hand. 

“Oh- you must be that cat Mr Chase was chasing around the fire department. Did he ever catch you, little kitty?” Dakota asked as he pet the orange cat. She seemed to smirk in her little cat way as she tilted her head, revealing the golden name tag there. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He scratched under her chin as he continued speaking to the pair of animals. “Nice to meet ya, Melissa. Thanks for not attacking Milo, by the way. Are you two pals then?”

She hopped off the couch, nuzzling against Milo as she moved by him, trying to translate this to the human crouched in front of them. 

“Ah, now that's cute. I’ll take that as a yes. You didn’t get hurt by the vase, right? Or did it just startle ya?” 

At Milo’s ruffled feathers, easily smoothed back, Dakota nodded, a little sadly. No injuries, just a spooked goose and a helpful little cat. 

“Don’t worry, little buddies.” Dakota cooed, still petting the concerned bird. “Cav- Mr. Cavendish doesn’t generally do stuff like that. I don’t even know how he got a hold of my vase…” 

Milo turned his head away, standing up suddenly. He moved across the room, grabbing a pillow off a chair to drag over to the human. Something clicked in Dakota’s head. 

“Did you steal my vase to show Mr Cavendish?” Dakota asked, a mix of shock and awe in his tone. He found himself chuckling at the sad honk, which got a curious look from both animals. 

“You-” he laughed through his words, grabbing the pillow gently from the bird. “You animals are just too smart around here. Milo, that is incredibly sweet. I promise you, I’m not mad at you at all. A little at Mr Cavendish, but don’t you worry. He’ll forget about all this soon, and go back to ignoring me.”

Dakota stood up, placing the pillow on the couch as he did so. He walked slowly, moving towards his kitchen nook. When he returned, still at his snail pace, he held a broom and dust pan. 

“Stay in here, I need to clean up the mess before anyone steps on it. Melissa, there is a box in the corner there if you need… well you know! If Milo needs to, show him how if you will?”

It didn’t take long to clean up, though he did take a vacuum to the area to make sure none of the shrapnel could hurt anyone else. When he came back in, neither of the animals were looking at the box, pointedly looking any other direction. It didn’t take long to clean that up, either. 

“I wonder if you can teach a goose to use the toilet..” Dakota mused with a smile. He filled up the cat kibble bowl before bringing it out, alongside a bigger bowl of water. He placed both on the mat outside the kitchen. Having played host to a myriad of animals, he had quite the assortment of pet foods in his kitchen. 

“Here, Melissa, in case you get a little… he he, peckish!” he chuckled, the small cat flattening her ears as she took advantage of the free food. “Does Mr Chase tell you lots of puns, young lady? He looks like someone who’d tell dad jokes all day long”

Eventually, the odd trio returned outside, Milo learning sunbathing with Melissa, and Dakota working in his bath tub of flowers. Right now, it was 3 simple flowers, but he was hoping to fill it in with more, so it would be overflowing with flowers. 

There was a knock on the door that broke the peaceful moment. Three sharp knocks, in clean succession to each other, upon the door. Melissa and Milo continued laying in the sun as Dakota dusted himself. He tossed the gardening gloves he’d been using onto the edge of the bathtub planter before moseying inside. 

He looked through the peephole first- old habits die hard- only to be greeted by the sight of his neighbor, looking sheepish with a bag in his hand. Debating a moment, Dakota relented and unlocked the door. 

“Mr. Cavendish”, Dakota spoke calmly. “What do you need?”

Cavendish twisted the bag's handle between his hands for a moment, looking down as he slowly handed the bag to Dakota. Dakota gingerly took it from his hands as he stepped to the side, letting Cavendish in. 

Cavendish stood in the middle of the room, seemingly not sure where best to sit. All the seats seemed overstuffed, like one might sink in and never come out if one were to take a seat, with pillows and blankets tossed upon them at random. If color scheme was a word in Dakota’s vocab, it was highly underused. 

“We can take this to the garden, Mr. Cavendish.” Dakota spoke, gingerly carrying the bag in his hand. He didn’t wait for a reply before slowly making his way outside. Cavendish waited a moment before following, stepping cautiously over the mosaic in progress. 

Melissa had stood from where she was laying, the hair upon her back rising with anxiety, posed as if ready to defend Milo tooth and claw. Dakota felt himself relax a bit at the sight. 

“Dakota, I- eep!” Cavendish cut himself, staring at Milo. Milo was laying on his back, his wings and long neck outstretched in the grass, eyes pinched closed. 

“Th-that poor goose!” Cavendish called, one hand going to his chest. “Good heavens, that vagrant cat-”

Melissa, now insulted, hisses, taking on a fighting stance. Dakota however began chuckling. Cavendish could only look between the three of them. 

“The goose isn’t dead, he’s just sunbathing”, Dakota spoke, interrupting his own chuckles. “Melissa here is a sweetie…” 

To emphasize this, he pet the cat, still glaring Cavendish with all the ferocity that a kitten of her stature could. She calmed down, but her eyes remained on the tall man.

As if realizing the tension, Milo drowsily lifted his head, honking curiously at the cat. He sat up from where he was laying, nuzzling into Melissa. 

Cavendish cleared his throat, attempting to readjust himself to a more gentleman’s stance. Dakota, with a final pet, stood up and put himself between the cat and Cavendish. 

“I…” Cavendish began, already floundering out the gate. He looked down and gasped at the sight. “Your foot!”

Dakota rolled his eyes, his plaintive smile sliding off his face. While the cut hadn’t been that bad, the placement meant that it had to be heavily bandaged. First aid is something he’s done since he was a kid, even though he was never really clumsy. 

“What did you expect when you threw that vase at me, Mr Balthazar Cavendish…” Dakota replied, the venom slipping into his words as he glared at the stone. 

“I… I didn’t mean to…” Cavendish spoke, staring down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” he looked to where the statue had been, the pedestal bare. He caught his breath.

“My deepest apologies, my friend…” Cavendish began again, putting distance between himself and Dakota. “I… there’s clay?” 

Dakota furrowed his brows, looking at Cavendish curiously. 

“In the bag? There- I’m sorry I broke your lamp and that it won’t be fixed easy if at all, and it can’t be replaced- at least I couldn’t find the vase you had anywhere on the internet judging by my searches- but I have clay? And there is a couple different types of purple paint, since it was shiny i assumed it needed oil paint with oil being shiny, but i was wrong so its glaze but glaze goes on donuts- And- there’s a card for this place that has a- what did they call it at the crafting store- a ken? It's hot, and they will cook the clay but its not food and-”

At this point, Cavendish was just a flurry of words, his hands worrying at each other as he kept his eyes on Dakota’s injured foot. And, not sure how to reply, Dakota placed a hand on Cavendish's shoulder. 

It seemed to do the trick, as Cavendish stopped and looked back into Dakota’s eyes, peaking over the lenses of his shades. 

“Cav…” Dakota spoke, his voice gravely with the emotions he’d been feeling, all different yet… not bad.

“I didn’t throw it at you…” Cavendish whispered, tears in his eyes. “I was just tossing your stuff back into your lawn and… and…” his chest was rising and falling quickly, his eyes looking wild. 

“And I forgive you, Cav” Dakota spoke, pulling apart Cavendish’s hands, stroking the reddened skin. 

The animals looked between the pair, standing close and staring at their joined hands, before Melissa strode inside for more kibble. Milo waddled after her, carefully as to not disturb any of the stones, nor the pair. They didn’t notice. 

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Milo whispered to Melissa as the pair sat outside Dakota’s kitchen.

“Eh, probably.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I say probably the last chapter, because I'm debating an epilogue or not. I don't know, I've been making this up as I go. Let me know in the comments below, I've had this in work for over a year, adding and removing and shifting. It started out as a funny comedy fic and I hope its gotten some laughs anyhow. 
> 
> Leave me your comments if you can, tell me how I can improve if you're willing, and have a good day whether you like it or not.

**Author's Note:**

> Yea, feeding ducks bread is bad, so it probably is bad for geese too. They can eat peas I believe, so Milo shall get peas. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K0xi9DJpJpc&list=PL-7t9DoIELCR8IqeGM5WjWrbC_OZIt_WE&index=3&t=0s  
Got inspired while watching him playthrough, so here it is! Thank you for reading, and I hope to have this finished before Sunday night if I can. Let me know if you liked this in the comments!


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